Page 14 of My Brave Highlander

The young man grinned. "'Tis not necessary, m'laird."

Aha, so this Rebbie was a laird. Why on earth did they not introduce him as such? What were they hiding?

"Hold to the saddle," Dirk told Isobel.

She nodded and clutched her good hand around the leather. She covered her injured hand with her arisaid. It felt near frozen, but the icy air had diminished the pain somewhat.

On foot, Dirk led the horse forward along the snowy trail.

"I did not intend to take your mount," Isobel said, raising her voice to be heard over the gust of wind.

"You didn't," he called back.

She observed him from the back, an imposing and fearsome warrior. Though she had not recognized him at first because he'd changed so profoundly, now she remembered with clarity how she'd felt the first time she'd looked into his blue eyes, so fierce and intense. He had even appeared annoyed then.

At fifteen, he had intrigued her, yet frightened her at the same time. Now, since his muscular frame had filled out into that of a man, he was even more intimidating. But she didn't think he meant her harm. Clearly, his soul was not as icy as his eyes or he would've left her out in the snow to freeze to death.

"Do you have a suggestion where we might find lodgings for the night, south of Munrick?" he asked.

"There is an abandoned crofter's hut."

He turned, frowning at her. "You jest."

She shook her head. Was he surprised that a lady, the daughter and sister of chiefs, could lower her standards so much? 'Haps he, like a lot of others, thought she was a cosseted lady who would throw a tantrum if she couldn't stay in the most elegant of lodgings.

"Is that where you stayed last night?" he asked.

She did not wish him to know anything more about her, but every time she opened her mouth, she revealed another bit of information he could use against her. In addition, he was astute and canny. Even if she didn't tell him everything, he might surmise the rest.

Still, they had to find somewhere to stay the night. Outside of Munrick Castle, or a cottage in the village, there was nowhere else to stay. She could not show her face in the village. Surely the MacLeods had searched every cottage by now, and their inhabitants would be more than happy to turn her over to their laird's brother. No matter his attempted crime, she was the outsider.

"The crofter's hut was not so bad. We built a fire in the smaller room which was more enclosed against the wind."

"Ah. If it was so cozy, why does no one live there?"

"Well, there is the small matter of the half-missing roof."

"Why am I not surprised?" he muttered. "And how much farther back to this crofter's hut?"

"I'm not certain. We left early this morn." But they'd also gotten lost before dawn and followed the wrong trail for a long time. Once she'd realized they were traveling east instead of south, they'd had to backtrack. Besides, it was slow going with Beitris's bad knees and hip.

Dirk led his sure-footed horse up an incline, a hill-pass between gigantic granite mountains. The snow fell thicker at the top and the wind buffeted them with more biting force. Once they'd descended the other side, Dirk paused. "We can make better time if we all ride," he called back to George.

"Do you think you can ride pillion, sitting on my bedroll?" he asked her.

She nodded, momentarily unsettled by the thought of him sitting so close in front of her, between her legs. She had no choice but to ride astride if she wished to keep her seat. But this was his horse, and he was generous for allowing her to ride it. Trying not to further injure her hand, she awkwardly scooted back onto the soft roll of wool blankets behind the saddle.

"If you could lean back slightly, I'll be able to mount without kicking you," Dirk said. When she did, he threw his leg over and gracefully hoisted himself into the saddle.

Once George and Beitris were mounted similarly, they all increased their pace across the flatter ground. The trotting horse jiggled her about but with her good hand she held on to Dirk's rock solid shoulder.

A moment of panic seized her at the thought of riding north again, closer to the MacLeods, but the truth was she and Beitris needed help. She'd had no inkling where they would've stayed tonight if Dirk and his companions hadn't happened along.

"You are friends with the MacLeods, are you not?" she asked.

He lifted one huge shoulder and let it drop. "Our clans were allies last I heard, but I haven't been in these parts in several years."

She relaxed a wee bit after that. If he wasn't a close friend of the chief and his brother, maybe he wouldn't force her to go back to that hellish place.